


TO THE HILLS

by merrows



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Coming of Age, F/F, Friendship/Love, Multi, Urban Fantasy, Victorian Flower Language, a musical production of the hunchback of notre dame, all that random shit, also; apocalypse, one particular disastrous party, yay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-01 00:51:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12144957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrows/pseuds/merrows
Summary: Adore’s confused, Jinkx’s a mess, Trixie and Katya are blatantly shagging, Alaska’s probably telepathic, Courtney has denounced love, Bianca knows everything, Ivy’s  very pretty and Manila just wants to cry. Throw in magic, curses, circumstances of the most supernatural type and the potential for impending world doom and college just got a lot harder.also posted on artificialqueens@tumblr, under the pseudonym merrow





	1. PROLOGUE - ADORE

 

 

Ivy grins, shaking her hair away from her face. “It’s not like that.”

“It sounds like that,” Adore protests, looking up at the girl in front of her. Ivy, with her green, green dress and hair threaded full of flowers, a butterfly wing shawl around her shoulders looked like anybody’s stereotype of a hippie. Albeit a very glamorous one – Adore doesn’t think she’s ever seen Ivy in anything that looked less than three hundred pounds.

Ivy shrugs, still grinning. It’s kind of dark and the shadows make her eyes look bigger, darker than Adore’s used too. Not that she’s too used to Ivy. She knows the girl from around campus – they’ve got mutual friends in Alaska and Willam and Alyssa but Ivy’s quieter than Adore, spends less time in the party scene and more time with the arts kids. Bianca probably knew her.

“If this is a trick,” Adore begins. From what Adore does know of Ivy, tricking somebody is out of character, let alone somebody she barely knows. But the alternative is that Ivy actually believes in what she told Adore and that’s a whole different concept and maybe Adore should say something to Alaska, ask her to keep any eye on the blonde girl.

“Not a trick.” Ivy promises. “It sounds weird, I know,” she laughs slightly, awkwardly. “But once you get your head around this – just trust me.”

Oh yes, trust the girl she doesn’t even know. Still, Adore agrees and Ivy sends her a blindingly bright smile in return.

Why walking to the motorway bridge is a good idea – in the middle of the night – Adore doesn’t know. She could get mugged, or killed, or run over. The bridge could collapse on top of them. Ivy could be a serial killer and Adore could be her next victim. Something about the girl makes Adore want to trust her though and so Adore follows.

She’s lived in Carlotta for three years now but she still doesn’t know the road Ivy takes her down. Which kind of makes sense, Adore’s happy with knowing the high street and the shops and where the campus begins and ends. But the unnamed street, full of houses that have no lights on and a road empty of cars– it’s eerie. It’s uncomfortable.

“We’re not far,” Ivy reassures, tucking her hair behind her ear. She smiles at Adore and Adore adds a mental note to what she knows of Ivy; _doesn’t fucking stop smiling._ It’s cute maybe, but more than that it’s creepy. Why Adore was with Ivy, she didn’t know. If Bianca was here she’d probably yell at Adore for being stupid and walking with the girl to god knows where but Bianca wasn’t, it was just Ivy and Adore and the quiet, empty roads.

“Why the bridge?” Adore asks, looking sideways at Ivy. “If this was real, if this was anywhere – why the bridge?”

Ivy shrugs elegantly, one shoulder lifting up after the other. It moves her hair, gentle blonde waves falling down her back. When Adore first met Ivy – she thinks it was Jinkx who introduced them – she had auburn hair. The blonde didn’t look like dye but Adore couldn’t particularly remember the auburn looking so either – unalike Adore’s at the time which had been bright red and had had dark, dark roots. “I don’t choose where it happens,” Ivy explains. “Nobody does – it just does. Some people have like, an intuition for where it is. Manila does, and Trixie always knows but they don’t know why. None of us do.”

“Will Manila be there tonight?” Adore knew the older girl. She knew her much more than she knew Ivy, and maybe if Manila was there she could explain this complete mindfuck and maybe refer Ivy to a therapist.

“Maybe,” Ivy hums. “She comes and goes. But Trixie will be there, with Katya. And Sharon’s always about, and Farrah. Probably Alyssa too.”

Alyssa was weird but Alyssa wasn’t the type to go to some weird cult gathering under the bridge. And Katya was wild and it was probably her kind of thing, expect for the whole cult bit which would probably just scare her. It didn’t sound something like Trixie would do but Trixie did pretty much whatever Katya did. Adore didn’t really know Farrah that well but it was a guarantee that Sharon would be up for something weird.

“Do you have these a lot?”

Ivy shrugs once more. “I never know when they’re going to happen really. It’s not so much my forte. But Manila, like I said. And Jinkx always reminds me.”

“Jinkx isn’t here tonight though?” Adore asks, thinking of the red haired girl. She’d met the girl back when she’d moved to Carlotta, Jinkx lived in the dorm opposite Adore and she’d helped Adore move her things in when she’d joined the college. Despite Jinkx’s helpfulness however, she still didn’t know so much about the other girl. She did theatre with Bianca and could be found in Alaska’s dorm fifty percent of the time but Adore didn’t really know her. There were rumours of a big fight, Jinkx and Roxxxy Andrews and a whole flood of drama that happened with it but that had been before Adore had been there, and Jinkx didn’t really seem the type to fight.

“She’d got a big test tomorrow,” Ivy explained, eyes crinkling at the mention of the girl. “Biochemistry.”

“And,” Adore asked, “That’s okay with your…group? You don’t all mind that she doesn’t attend?”

“Why would we?” Ivy frowned “There’s never times when everyone’s there. People have lives.”

“From what you said though,” Adore looks up at the taller girl. “This is your life.”

“Well, it’s a part of it,” Ivy smiles awkwardly. “But so is college. And like, everything else. People can do more than one thing.”

“No I get that,” Adore sighs slightly, “you just told me and it sounds like – I don’t know. Mormonism. Once you’re in you cannot escape.”

“The mafia,” Ivy laughs, pulling a metal kissing gate open. It swings back against Adore, cold and glinting silver in the moonlight. “No we’re not anything like that. It’s not a religion or gang or anything. Like. A cult, it’s not a cult.”

Adore said nothing, suddenly feeling rather foolish.

“Sorry,” Ivy says, stepping harshly on a bramble. “I didn’t explain it very well – I’m not very good at this part. Normally it’s Jinkx or Courtney who does it.”

“Courtney?” Adore repeats, stopping in her tracks. Courtney as in her Courtney? As in Courtney Act, the ‘C’ of ABC, one third of the AAA girls? Courtney as in the small, easily excited Australian girl that was one of Adore’s best friends? That Courtney?

“Fuck,” Ivy hisses and the curse sounds strange coming from the gentle girl. Ivy was all shy and sweetheart and what was easily one of Adore’s most spoken words didn’t sound right coming from the good-natured girl. “Sorry,” She apologises. “I wasn’t meant to say anything – Courtney wanted to tell you herself. Fuck, fuck. I have such a big mouth, I am so sorry.”

“Tell me what?” Adore frowns, brushing past a nettle. “Your mouth is cute.”

Red floods Ivy’s cheeks. “Thank you. It’s not but you’re sweet. But no, her part in this thing. I guess I should stop talking, I spend too much time around Alyssa, I’ve lost all my filters.”

Adore laughs slightly at the dig on Alyssa. It was true, the dancer said exactly what she thought when she thought it and didn’t really seem to ever care about the consequences. Adore would have said that an influence was probably good for Ivy. In this case, it was just frustrating. What did Courtney know, why hadn’t she said anything before?

“We’re almost here,” Ivy pulls her hair back from her face. “You walk really quickly.”

“I am wearing boots,” Adore points out, doing a kick for demonstration. Ivy laughs. “You’re wearing pumps I don’t even know how you manage to walk out here; it’s all rocky and shit.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice I guess,” Ivy hums “I don’t think I really own any flat shoes.”  
Adore shakes her head. Sure she likes heels and dressing up and she has a lot of fierce, six inch boots but not owning any flat shoes? Around campus Adore pretty much lives in trainers. She has three pairs of fluffy slippers – one of which was technically Bianca’s. She goes to class with bare feet, or just in tights to the chagrin of Bianca and Courtney who both insist her feet stink. Alaska just laughs and takes her own shoes off to match her.

Ivy leads her down a sudden turn, leaving the path completely. The grass is long and damp, cold through Adore’s tights. Ivy doesn’t seem discomforted but the change from the path has re-sprung all of Adore’s earlier doubts about the creepiness of the situation back upon her. Ivy could literally murder her and nobody would know – and of course no one would suspect Ivy Winters.

But Ivy doesn’t suddenly pull an axe out her shawl or anything; she doesn’t stop and push Adore to the ground. Instead she continues walking and Adore follows, the grassy bank levelling out and turning into concrete.

The motorway stretched above them, strangely empty. Moving to Carlotta Adore had been so confused why there was a motorway going through the town, and how nobody ever seemed to use it. Over the last years she’d gotten used to it – being something quaint, a reminder of when Carlotta was on the journey to more illustrious places. But tonight it’s like she’s just seeing it all over again. The lights on it are automatic and come on when it’s dark but even so they still seem oddly dim and soft.

Under the bridge a figure emerges and for a minute Adore’s certain that this is some kind of murder waiting to happen. But the figure moves closer and its Trixie, grinning delightedly at the two of them. Her hairs pulled up into space buns and her lips are a soft pink and she looks nothing like a serial killer. Admittedly, serial killers probably didn’t dress like the joker but still. Adore knew Trixie.

“You made it!” Her voice is happy and as Adore and Ivy come closer Adore can see more people underneath the bridge, pink and white lights spilling out and elongating their shadows.

“Trixie!” Ivy grins, rushing forwards. Trixie has to stand on tiptoes to return her hug. Adore stands there, feeling awkward and out of place.

“Adore!” A voice calls and Manila is suddenly there. “I’m so glad you came!”

“I’m still not really sure what’s happening,” Adore shrugs, looking up at the black and white haired girl. She’s plaited her hair in two, braids falling down her shoulders. Her lipstick is dark and her eyeliner harsh and she stands out against Ivy and her hippie-styled attire and Trixie and her fluffy pink skirt and Adore and her holey tights and boots and grubby t-shirt. Manila looks proper and perfectly made up and styled, as if she were out to a restaurant or something and not underneath a motorway at eleven at night.

“Neither are we to be honest,” Manila admits, pulling Adore forwards. There are more people emerged from under the bridge – Alyssa and Katya and Sharon. There’s a girl with pink hair who Adore’s seen around before and a girl with hair a soft green who Adore doesn’t know.

“Trixie rung me this morning – woke Raja up. Said she’d seen you – that it was your time.”

“She’d seen me?” Adore repeats, confused and more than a little uncomfortable. The two are friends, they live in the same dorm block – of course they saw each other.

“I don’t mean in person,” Manila explains, twisting her hands together. “Trixie – she dreams things. Not like that. She saw you – on the wall.”

Adore was more confused than ever and she was wishing that she’d just ignored Ivy when she’d approached her and told her, her fairy tale. Whatever was going on with Manila and Trixie and Katya, she didn’t want part of it.

“Just come on,” Manila says, picking up Adore’s wrist again and dragging her under the bridge. Adore let her, all too ready to wake up and this all be a really weird dream, a side effect of the cold pasta and cheese she’d eaten before she went to sleep or something.

The tunnel is heavily painted, lanterns scattered about. There’s a sting of pink fairy lights on the floor, lying over several blankets and quilts that have been laid out. Manila continues to pull Adore forwards and Adore wants to protest, she’s had it.

But she stops.

There are voices behind her – she can hear Sharon greeting someone.

The wall in front of Adore is covered in a myriad of graffiti, names and doodles and pictures and colours all interweaving each other.

“Adore?” Somebody walks up behind her and it’s an Australian accent and she knows it must have been Courtney who just arrived and who Ivy greeted.

But Adore can’t move.

Amidst the paint that covers the wall in front of her, is her.

Adore’s painted there, her hair long and green, twisting amongst the other paintings. Painted-Adore has her eyes closed, a sunflower clasped in her hand. Butterflies are perched in her hair, on her hands, everywhere. It doesn’t look freshly painted – everything else on the wall is combined around it as if it had always been there.

It’s beautiful – it’s fucking unbelievable.

“Adore?” Courtney asks again, coming to stand next to her.

Adore can’t take her eyes of the recreation of her. She looks eternal. “What the fuck?”


	2. CHAPTER ONE - JINKX

“How did your test go?” Alaska asks, leaning forwards to pick up her mug.

Jinkx places her own mug down, shuffling on the sofa. “I bombed it. Not in a good way.”

“Well biochemistry’s a hard subject,” Alaska points out, lifting her tea. “No one’s perfect all the time. Well, except for me.”  
Alaska’s humour has always been something that Jinkx had loved about the girl. Nodding and pulling her legs up underneath her, Jinkx studied the one who had won the title of a best friend. She and Alaska didn’t used to get on. Back when Jinkx had started college in Carlotta, Alaska had started too. And Alaska had then been best friends with Detox and Roxxxy and all four of them had been in the same performance class and Jinkx had hated it. Rolaskatox were loud and brash and acted like they were invincible and everyone seemed to like them, much to Jinkx’s own chagrin. In the first year of college, Jinkx had been friends with Ivy and that was it. And Rolaskatox had known everyone, and everyone knew the three girls and nobody seemed to care that they were assholes and laughed at Jinkx and regularly treated her, and others, like shit.

Leaving secondary, Jinkx had been determined to remove herself from the weird kid pigeonhole and make her mark on the world, and be admired for it. Be accepted for it. For a while, Rolaskatox had destroyed all chances of acceptance and Jinkx had struggled with it. Never one to simply forgive people, she’d held a grudge.

She didn’t really know why Rolaskatox broke apart but it did and it was months after that when Alaska finally came to Jinkx and apologised. And it was four years after that that Jinkx and Alaska were sat drinking tea together in Alaska’s dorm, past grievances put behind them as they were happy to be close friends to each other.

“You’ve got more exams further down the line right; you can make up the marks?”

“I can,” Jinkx agrees, “theoretically. I just don’t know why I decided to study fucking biochemistry.”

“So you can save the planet,” Alaska replies automatically, grinning at Jinkx. “And then sing about it in the West End.”

“I’m not going to save the world with biochemistry,” Jinkx laughs, “I’m not that good at it. And how the fuck can a biochemist be on West End?”

“Oh shut up,” Alaska shoves Jinkx. “Yee little of faith. You have a fucking good voice and you can fucking act and dance and do all that musical stuff. And you’re also incredibly clever and smart and hardworking and of course you can save the world, and of course you’ll be on West End.”

Jinkx shoves Alaska back and doesn’t respond. It’s nice; it’s so nice to have found such a friend in the blonde girl. And it may be that half the things she said about Jinkx were pure shit – no way was she good enough for West End and sure as hell she wasn’t good at dancing – but it was nice to have somebody who seemed to believe in you. Alaska and Jinkx’s relationship had always been something different and once they became friends – close friends – it showed evermore. Alaska changed her demeanour depending on the circumstance and sometimes Jinkx wished that people who didn’t know Alaska so well could see this soft, gentle version of her that had grown so much over the last few years. Call Jinkx soppy and you’d be right but fuck if she wasn’t proud of her friend.

The two of them remained in silence, drinking their tea. Jinkx is good at talking, she fucking loves to talk and so does Alaska and rarely there’s a dull point between the two of them. But the silence was comforting and so much had been happening the last few weeks and Jinkx just wanted to sit down and dissemble it all and understand it and Alaska, bless her, had noticed that something was on Jinkx’s mind without a word said between them.

Jinkx wishes she could maybe tell Alaska some things about the crazy world she’s a part of, the bit of her that Alaska doesn’t get to see. But Jinkx had learnt to keep her secret close to her chest, to not trust it to anyone who didn’t experience the same world as her. It was alright as a joke – Trixie called Jinkx a ‘swamp witch’ all the time but no one needed to know how close Trixie’s nickname for her was to the truth.

Not that anyone would actually believe her – not that Alaska would believe her. Jinkx would just go back to being the strange, odd freak that Alaska had disdainfully ignored.

Biochemistry was something Jinkx could do and only part of that was because of revision and science textbooks and school. Witchery wasn’t like it was in the movies. Jinkx knew very few people who actually used wands or could transfigure things by saying one word. Most of it was a complex combination of ritual. Spells couldn’t just be said by a witch, they had to be made.  

Jinkx was pretty good at making spells.

Biochemistry, not so much.

Something must have shown on her face because Alaska suddenly leant forwards, giving Jinkx another shove. “You did fine. Stop stressing okay.”  
Jinkx gives a sheepish smile and Alaska clicks her tongue, in perfect imitation of one Alyssa Edwards. It makes Jinkx laugh and it makes Alaska click once more, before sucking in her cheeks and posing.

“So girl,” She was still imitating Alyssa. “What do you want to do today?”

Jinkx shrugs.

“I’d say we should go out for tea or something but we’re already doing that. I mean, we could go out again but that kind of defeats the point.”

“The weather looks quite nice,” Jinkx offers, “We could go to the park or something? Unless you have work?”

Alaska rolls her eyes. “Oh yes of course after asking what you want to do I’m going to leave you to go and do stupid college work. I have, like, one draft due next week, that’s it.”

“Okay then,” Jinkx straightens, pushing herself up from the sofa. “Have you finished your tea? We’ll tidy up and can head out after?”

“Sounds gooood,” Alaska lengthens the vows, over-enunciating them. “Aw Jinkx, we do such cute things together.”

Jinkx laughs slightly, taking the mug Alaska hands her as well as her own and heading over to the sink. Behind her she can hear Alaska and the slight thud followed by a curse tells Jinkx she dropped something – that something probably her phone.

Alaska’s dorm was not so much a dorm as instead a tiny apartment. It was built around the stairwell which made it into two small parts, a thin rectangle joining them. In the one part was her sofa and desk, and in the other was where she had a sink, several appliances including a mini-fridge and two different toasters and her bed. Her organisation skills were something Jinkx had learnt not to question – although who wanted the microwave and the bed in the same room?

Theoretically, Alaska didn’t need to leave her dorm to get food or anything – which was just as well. Despite having four different dorm blocks, there was only one food court – at the bottom of the West block. This was a good ten minutes from Alaska’s block, the East one. Jinkx didn’t know who decided to call the blocks after compass points, instead of the allocated alphabet letters (A, E, G and J) but whoever did had either accidentally or purposefully labelled them incorrectly. South block was the south most one. The West and North blocks both faced east, the two a stone’s throw away from each other whilst the East block was North-West and the furthest away from the rest of the campus.

The tiny window in Alaska’s bedroom-and-kitchen designated area had a view of the steep woodlands that grew right across Carlotta, stopping scare miles from the college. Washing the mugs out, Jinkx watched. The trees around Carlotta had always fascinated her. Mayhap it was nothing, or maybe it was something that only affected Jinkx’s witchery and not other people, but there was something different about the trees. Not anything scary. Just different.

Ivy would probably know and Jinkx could probably ask her but Jinkx was always rather intimidated to ask the fae-girl something. Ivy’s relationship with the natural world was stronger than most part-fairy’s and there were rumours, so many rumours, about Ivy’s birth right. The girl didn’t like to discuss them, and that was something Jinkx could respect and if asking about the forest would somehow cross the boundaries Ivy had constructed – well Jinkx didn’t want to cross the boundaries.

Ivy had been Jinkx’s first friend in Carlotta and the years she’d been there had only made their bond stronger. There’d been a few months after they’d first met where Jinkx had been convinced she’d had a crush on Ivy. But Jinkx had then been approached by Raven and Manila – the latter who was a soothsayer and who’d seen Jinkx’s arrival to Carlotta. And Jinkx had been surprised, and wary, but joining the coven had been one of the best things she’d done. And also in the coven, there had been Ivy and suddenly everything about her had made sense. Jinkx had been part of their coven a few months when she finally admitted her crush to Ivy. But Ivy had apologised and told Jinkx that it was probably her charm – that sometimes she didn’t check it. And Jinkx had smiled and told Ivy not to worry and that she understood perfectly.

And Jinkx hadn’t told Ivy that she, as a witch, was guarded against most charms and the fae’s certainly came under that.

Over the time that had past Jinkx had dated a little bit, and Ivy dated more, but neither of them spoke about Jinkx’s crush. And perhaps it was for the best.

 Everyone knew about Raven and Jujubee – supernatural relationships, especially between those of different species, tended not to end so well.

Manila hated the word species, constantly telling everyone how they were human as well as being something else. But if not species what word could you use?

Sighing slightly, Jinkx rinsed the final mug (hot pink, a picture of Willam Belli on it) and put it onto the draining board. Her sigh must have reminded Alaska of her presence because the tall girl came around the corner almost simultaneously, purposefully flicking her wispy hair into Jinkx’s face.

“For our trip to the park,” she began, “I was wondering if Adore could come?”

Jinkx didn’t know Adore all that well. They lived opposite each other, sure, and had multiple mutual friends but she didn’t really know Adore. Adore was far cooler than Jinkx and probably didn’t want to know her. But Jinkx did know that Trixie had dreamt Adore’s picture on the wall, that she’d messaged their group chat one am two nights ago with to tell them that ‘ _Adore Delano’s not human. Her painting’s on the wall.’_

Jinkx didn’t know how the wall worked, not like Manila did and that was probably why Trixie rang Manila to tell her specifically. Things that were important however, appeared on the wall. It was an accepted fact – the underneath of the motorway bridge holding the same power as a web or mirror or whatever else was used to see the future.

Why Adore’s picture on the wall meant she wasn’t human, Jinkx didn’t know. But she did know that Carlotta held an absurdly large amount of those with supernatural blood, and that people didn’t just turn up in Carlotta.

“Sure Adore can come,” Jinkx smiles and Alaska does so in response, picking up her phone to undoubtedly tell Adore so.

If Jinkx could learn more about Adore, that was good. And if Jinkx could help her transition into this new world – well, that was better. Discovering her own witchery had been so fucking hard, even with her Nana’s help.  

 

Despite it being about an hour ago that Jinkx and Alaska had decided to go for a walk around the park, the weather had already taken a turn for the worse. Currently Jinkx was walking in between Adore and Alaska – both of them taller than her, and both of them wearing boots. Jinkx was wearing wellies which were turquoise and really cute but unfortunately, doing nothing to add to her height.

“Jinkxy,” Alaska croons, “Jinkxy are you listening?”

“Yes.” Jinkx replies automatically before hesitating. “Well not really but-”

She’s cut off by Alaska’s sigh, the blonde shaking her head. Adore laughs, deep and loud and Jinkx grins a little. Adore had been shooting her tiny looks as they made their way around the park, and whatever she’d discovered last night she must have questions. Or maybe she just hated Jinkx’s wellies.

“Let’s face it Lasky, you’re fucking boring.” Adore shoots Alaska a smirk and Alaska gives another terrible mock gasp.

“I don’t know why I even call you my friends!”

Both Adore and Jinkx laugh and Jinkx is left wondering why the three of them haven’t hung out like this before. But the answer is rather clear – Adore didn’t want to know Jinkx. And now she knows Jinkx is similar to her, she does. Jinkx can’t really fault her but looking at Adore and her ratty boots and layered skirt and bright blue hair it kind of hurts.

Jinkx’s in a blue and white polka dot skirt with a red shirt and a blue beanie that Ivy made her and she certainly doesn’t fit Adore’s aesthetic. And that wasn’t even mentioning the wellies.

The three of them carry on, walking through the very beginning of the woods and the trees around Jinkx seem to grow in front of her. This is something new and looking at Adore it’s obvious she’s seeing something too – and that it’s new for her as well. Magic had a funny way of revealing itself – once it knew you knew of it you begun to notice it more and more, things that you had once ignored or not seen suddenly appearing.

Basically it was a whole new world. A fucking daunting one. And Jinkx didn’t know what Adore was exactly – certainly not a witch, and Adore would have known herself if she was a vampire or anything akin – but there was something about her that the tree’s revelled in.

Adore shoots her a look – her eyes are wide and lips are parted and she belongs there. Alaska carries on, unseeing of everything happening around her and it hurts Jinkx just a little more. But then Adore’s there and she’s grinning so brightly.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Jinkx says softly and Adore’s eyes grow even larger. The leaves seem to be dancing around them, suddenly way too green for early September. The sun’s blocked because of the trees but somehow, underneath them, the light seems even brighter than it did in the park.

“So fucking gorgeous. It’s weird – Ivy said you could see things too but I wasn’t sure, like I only started seeing yesterday-”

“I get you,” Jinkx agrees. “Once you learn of magic – nothing is as you thought it was.”

“I keep thinking I’m asleep or something,” Adore mutters, “or like. I was out with Ganja last night and she had really, really good stuff.”

Jinkx laughs softly, she knows the feeling. “I’ve been watching these trees a lot though – there’s always been something different about them. But I’ve never seen them as they are now.”

“You haven’t?” Adore turns round, looking at the leaves in wonder. “So - is this…me?”

“I’m presuming so,” Jinkx says, watching Alaska in front of them. “I don’t actually know what you are, obviously I wasn’t at the wall with you last night or-”

Adore’s face falls slightly. “I don’t know either. There was a painting – such a fucking beautiful painting of me, all with long green hair and sunflowers and butterflies and shit but like. It didn’t say what I was.”

“And none of the other girls did?”

“Where they meant to? I guess I wasn’t good enough to know,” Adore shrugs, eyes flickering to the ground in front of her.

“Oh no honey!” Jinkx exclaims, “I didn’t mean it like that sorry. Normally people are good at recognising their own – for instance, I would know if you were a witch or Katya would know if you had karzelek blood or something.”

“So I’m something that doesn’t have a name?”

“Oh of course not. It just means that the people you were with last night didn’t know quite what you are. There’s millions of different species of supernatural all over the world though, no one can know them all. And discovering this about you makes you no different than you were before. You’re still you.”

“Now I can just see more?” Adore huffs “that’s incredibly useful.”

“It took me three years to understand my witchery. I’m not saying that it will be the same for you – some people always know what they are, especially those with curses such as a vampire or a werewolf. There are others who have supernatural heritage – fae-blood or Naiad or Selkie. And there are those who’s grow – like witches. We’re born with magic but it’s not like you see in Harry Potter. Witches have to hone their magic, to grow it. For witches, when you discover your heritage it’s called your Rising. Seeing magic awakes it inside of you. There are many other people that have similar such experiences – of all different species or races or whatever you want to call them.”

“I – sorry if I sounded like a brat,” Adore said finally, shuffling her feet. “There’s so much I don’t know, I don’t know half of what’s happening and-”

“It’s okay. When I discovered magic – or actually, it was my nana who introduced me – I was very lost. But that’s why Manila has this coven – it’s easier to be in a group. Coven’s a witch’s words actually; some call it a pack or a pride or whatever.”

“But you’re all different things,” Adore frowned softly, eyebrows creasing. “I’m different too.”  
“But we’re stronger together,” Jinkx shrugs, smiling at the younger girl. “Look – we better catch up with Alaska. But I’m always around to talk to – we can later if you like, properly?”

“Yes!” Adore smiled at Jinkx in response. “That was a bit loud. But that sounds so good – thank you. The others offered but I don’t know anyone that well – well I mean of course I know Courtney but she didn’t seem that happy I was there, I don’t know if I hurt her but-”

“You didn’t hurt her,” Jinkx is quick to reassure. “I don’t know Courtney that well sorry, but I do know she loves you a heck of a lot. I think she’s more worried about how this world can hurt you, than it being a case of you hurting her.”

“But she just seemed so angry I was there – everyone else was so welcoming and nice and-”

“Secrets can be a lot to carry around. She probably told herself she could never tell you. And now there’s this part of her that she can show you – but she’s spent so long hiding it, she doesn’t know how to show you.”

Adore’s forehead furrowed. “Why couldn’t she have told me before?”

“You weren’t aware of magic at all,” Jinkx says softly, “and those who are not magic have to stay away. Mixing the boundaries of the two has never held good consequences for either. In telling you about magic, before you’re ready, it allows allsorts to enter and play about with your head. Or sometimes more than your head. Not everyone in this world is good – neither in the human nor the magic.”

“So I can’t tell Alaska?” Adore’s face fell as she looked forwards at the tall girl in front of her. Alaska was in the process of taking photos, she’d emerged from the trees and the sunlight shot straight through her white-blonde hair, making it into a halo.

“No. No you can’t.” And then something cold and dark unfurled within Jinkx, pulling itself around her heart and squeezing. “She wouldn’t believe you anyways.”

The last sentence was cruel and Jinkx always tried so hard to not be cruel and the look Adore gave made her feel guilty but there was this part of here that revelled in it, that longed for more of it. Jealousy was a nasty trait that Jinkx always did her best to ignore but sometimes it got the better of her. And sometimes it became more.

And Adore, pretty Adore Delano who was best friends with Alaska and who could make the trees dance only a day after her gained the sight, Adore who everyone loved and who only wanted to get to know Jinkx so she could help herself, Adore made Jinkx jealous.

Witchery was always about a balance. There were so many stories of wicked whites versus white witches but what the stories didn’t tell was that often the two versions were the same witch. If you didn’t hone your magic, if you didn’t tend to it, it could make your magic leave you. And alternatively, those who tried to become the master of their magic, those who pushed it too much and tried to gain too much – the human inside of them would leave.

Witchery was always about a balance and angry emotions – things like jealousy or anger or pride could disturb that balance. Not tending your magic could leave you; but trying to control your magic could make the human in you leave. And it was those stories that scared Jinkx the most.

“That came out harsher than I meant,” Jinks sighs, looking across at Adore. “That was a shitty of me I’m sorry.”

Adore looked up her eyes meeting Jinkx’s own. Adore’s eyes were as green as the forest they were leaving, greener maybe. Had they always been so bright, Jinkx didn’t know. But maybe Jinkx would have to talk to Ivy about the forest – Adore deserved to know herself.

“You can’t tell Alaska either, can you?” Adore asks but it’s not really a question, she knows the answer and so does Jinkx and the two of them look at each other and Adore never vocalises it but Jinkx thinks that perhaps Adore understands.

“I’m terrified of leaving her behind,” and those are words Jinkx hasn’t ever said to anyone, not ever. She doesn’t know what makes her say them now – apart from she does. Adore. “Most of my friends are supernatural, they would understand. But Alaska doesn’t and I can’t tell her.”

“Leave her behind where?” Adore tilts her head, looking at Jinkx before glancing forwards at Alaska, still in front of them. She’s sat herself down in the grass, her phone in her hand frowning to herself. There are only a few metres between her and Adore and Jinkx but the fact that Jinkx and Adore are still under the trees and Alaska isn’t makes it feel like another world. And in many ways, it is.

“Here,” Jinkx twists her lip, biting it. “I have other duties to complete, I’ve got other things to do that are expected of me and I can’t stay as Jinkx Monsoon forever.”

“Do witches have a world?” Adore asks, shaking her head a little. “Fuck I sound weird. I sound like Ganja or something.”

Jinkx smiles but shakes her head. “Not in a literal sense – it’s not like the Fae or merrows and selkies and such. It’s more – you know Harry Potter? And how the Wizarding world exists around the muggle’s one? Oh my god I cannot believe I just compared witches to Harry Potter.”

“Do you call people muggles?” Adore grins

“No, no, no!” Jinkx shakes her head vehemently. “The only realistic thing about Harry Potter is the wizarding world being around the non-wizarding one. But we don’t call it the wizarding world – it’s the seen and the unseen.”

Adore laughs again, loudly, and Alaska turns around to look at them.

“Look,” Jinks says quickly, as Alaska stands and walks over. “We can talk later? You’ve got me on facebook right?”

“I do. Yeah,” Adore paused. “Thank you,”

Jinkx can only grin because Alaska’s there then, telling them how they’re taking ages and that she’s got bored of trying to make them bond and get to know each other and that one person can only spend so much time on Snapchat before it gets boring, and besides she’s using all her data.

Jinkx falls closer to Alaska, watches Adore and Alaska laugh and thinks maybe if she’s friends with Alaska she won’t get jealous. And her magic will stay balanced and she’ll be able to stay in Carlotta with the few people she cares most about.

 

Jinkx’s been home for a few hours before she remembers she promises to talk to Adore later. The two had spent the rest of their walk with Alaska, before Adore had had a class and all three had headed back. Now, Jinkx was in the dorm she shared with Fame, sat on her bed with several notebooks on her lap and a pile of revision notes just before her knee.

Fame wasn’t in and she’d left Jinkx a sticky note on their whiteboard, informing the redhead that she wouldn’t be coming back at all that night. She’d ended it with several x’s and the post-it note was light pink with little hearts on it and everything about Fame was so carefully chosen it was absurd.

Jinkx got on well enough with Fame; she spent too long answering every ‘hello’ but the girl was helpful and sweet and was tidier than a hotel. Their room was white and Jinkx’s side was covered in star charts and musical posters and blu tack stains that were never going to leave. Fame’s part was tidier, even her white paint looking cleaner than Jinkx’s white paint did. She’d pinned a pinky purple scarf over the ceiling and had gentle strings of fairy lights and all her posters were Italian Vogue or something and it looked like something you’d see on Instagram.

How some people were so organised was a mystery.

Jinkx couldn’t even remember where she put her phone which was a bit of an issue as she’d told Adore that they could talk.

Finally pulling the mobile up from down the side of her bed, it told Jinkx she had thirty-something notifications which was probably Jinkx’s own fault for not using it for the last few days.

She had three emails from change.org and honestly, the witch was certain she’d unsubscribed from their emails months ago. There was a comment on Trixie’s Instagram post from last week, she had ‘streaks’ snapchats from Violet, Alaska, Dela and Milk as well as a photo of Pearl’s nostrils. Sent by Pearl.

She had a message from Dela, asking if she was going to audition for the Hunchback of Notre Dame production that the performance classes were going to put on, and then she had one from Katya who’d wished her well in her biochemistry test, and then one from Fame who’d sent her a screenshot from some website about monsoon warnings.

Finally, saving the best till last, she opened the messages from Ivy;

**Did you hear what Trixie said? We haven’t had anyone knew in SO long I am excited!! I don’t really know Adore, what’s she like? X**

**Okay so Manila wants me to bring Adore tonight – something to do with the nature motives on her painting? Idk, I haven’t seen it yet. Have you?**

**Jinkxy have you lost your phone or are you really deep in revision?**

**Okay so I’m off to talk to Adore and try to persuade her to come under the bridge with us lmao wish me luck xox**

**JINKX! You’re probably asleep right now so I hope you have a good one <3 but we need to talk asap.**

**Jinkxy? x**

**Jinkx?!?**

**I hope your test goes well!! Talk to me after?? <3**

**Did your test go well? I’m sure you did amazingly!!**

**Jinkxy I hate to be a pain but we really need to talk**

**It’s about Adore**

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Ivy had been trying to get in touch with her for hours.

**I’m so sorry darling I lost my phone behind my bed!!**

**Are you okay?**

Ivy replied almost instantly

**Jinkxy!! I thought you’d probably lost it x**

**Yeah I’m fine but can we talk?**

**Maybe preferably in person I don’t know how to explain.**

**It’s not about me, like I said. Adore.**

**Is Adore okay?**

**Are you free now – we could meet?**

Ivy took a little longer to reply, the three dots indicating she was typing before they went away again.

**Adore’s fine! Actually I haven’t spoken to her since yesterday but yeah no it’s nothing worrying x**

**I’m in physics rn, sorry, it’s on for another hour. And I’d say let’s meet afterwards but you’ve got biochem right? X**

**I can skip?**

**Nooo! Don’t skip. We’ll talk tonight. I said it’s nothing worrying I just have some ideas I want to run by you. About Adore’s heritage, you know. They’re just theories; I want to talk them through before we tell her or anything**

**I don’t want to get her hopes up,**

**That would be terrible. X**

**It would be, goshsh**

**Yeah okay if you’re sure you can wait**

**If anything changes – my phone is now in my pocket.**

**Have fun with physics x**

Jinkx put her phone down on her bed. Stretching, pulled her hair up in a bun before remembering the initial reason she’d been hunting for her phone. Picking it up, she went to message Adore. A message from Ivy displayed itself across the screen of her phone – **you have fun with biochem babe xo**.

Ivy always gave people pet names; she always signed her texts with kisses. But it still made Jinkx wish that maybe she had meant it in a different way. But a relationship with the fairy-girl was as impossible as anything.

Sighing, Jink messaged Adore – **hi! Is there anything you want to talk about – concerning our conversation from earlier, you know?** – Before flinging her phone back to her bed. She stayed in that position, face buried into the duvet for who knew how long before she heard the door open.

“Hi Jinkx,” Fame greets and Jinkx muffles a greeting into the orange cover. “Max and I are just here for a bit – that’s okay right?”

Pushing herself up, Jinkx looks at her roommate. Max – or who she was presuming was Max – was grey haired and tall and stood directly behind Fame.

“Yeah that’s fine – I’ve got biochemistry in a minute anyways, I was thinking of going early to sign up for the Notre Dame production.”

“Oh you totally should!” Fame agrees, pulling Max in the room with her and shutting the door behind them. “I’m working on costumes and set design! And Max is really good at singing – we keep trying to get her to audition.”

Max shakes her head but Jinkx smiles at her. “You should audition. The worst they can tell you is no,”

Max smiles hesitantly back at Jinkx but doesn’t say anything, and Jinkx and Fame then exchange goodbyes as the redhead throws her books in her bag and leaves the room.

 

Jinkx has signed up for the auditions – to the delight of her professor, Michelle – and is sat in Biochemistry with Dela, waiting for their lecturer when she remembers the message she sent to Adore.

Unlocking her phone, she does have a message from the blue haired girl.

To say its contents were unexpected was putting it mildly.

**Um. Do you know anything about people vomiting up flowers?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING!! That was 5k words of probably out of character Jinkx Monsoon arghhhh but I hope you enjoy!! Please, please review!! I'd love to know what you think and if you have any criticisms or things you think I should change, or if there are any requests you have to be seen in the future!! Merrow, xox


	3. CHAPTER TWO - KATYA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who else is fucking pumped for as3?? if u wanna talk about it,,, please talk because im d y i n g

“Last night,” Trixie begins, shaking her head.

Sat with Trixie and Manila in the campus café, Katya can only grin a little. It takes a lot to make Trixie speechless and currently, she’s not sure what portion of ‘last night’ achieved that.

Manila leans towards Trixie, eyes sparkling. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Oh you know I don’t mean it like that,” Trixie rolls her eyes but she thinks it’s funny, Katya can tell. “I meant Adore. I mean, I know I dreamt it and we both went to check the painting but wow.”

“Wow,” Katya echoes. Their coven had grown something close to cocky – they’d all been sure that there weren’t any more supernatural people in Carlotta – let alone the university. And Adore Delano was low on the list of people that they had expected. “Why do you think it took so long for you to see her?”

“I don’t know,” Trixie’s brows crease slightly. “I have nothing against Adore – every time I’ve been around her I’ve loved her but she didn’t really strike me as the type. And she has to be powerful for her painting to appear – like, the only other people with painting’s up there are Manila and Sharon.”

Manila gives a mocking bow at her name, “Wow, thank you!” She tilts her head in consideration before adding, “Don’t forget about the girl by the opening though. The one we don’t know.”

“Well I didn’t forget her,” Trixie agrees, “but we don’t know her. Her painting was always there – she could be dead by now for all we know.”

“I don’t think so,” Manila shakes her head, braids falling over her shoulder.

“How does the wall actually work?” Katya interjects, leaning forwards to pick up her coffee. Trixie always teased her endlessly for the sugary concoctions she ordered but Trixie and her bitter coffee was stupid and if Katya was going to buy stupidly priced drinks she might as well buy one that actually tasted nice.

“It’s kind of like a web of power?” Manila asks, pausing when she sees Katya shake her head. “Okay. Um. It’s a bit like a scrying mirror – in fact it practically is. To put things simply, it shows the future.  It’s a bit more complicated than that – actual events or anything don’t appear. But objects, people, things like that. But on the wall – the images stay. Like, they don’t leave – or none of them have the whole time we’ve been here.”

“And how the fuck did you find this wall on the underneath of a motorway bridge though?” Katya asks, “Did you just see it?”

“Pretty much,” Manila shrugs, “Chad told me that he found a painting of me on some random graffitied wall and I was pretty cynical but I dreamt about it that night.”

Katya shakes her head, and catches Trixie laughing at her. “What?”

“It’s nothing,” The blonde continues to chuckle. “Only you’d think you’d be a bit more used to all this supernatural stuff after all this time.”

Katya sticks her tongue out and doesn’t admit Trixie has a point. She does though. Katya’s been part of this coven for eight months or something and she’s still not really sure, of well, anything. Trixie has lived in one town away from Carlotta her whole life – Greenfields or something it’s called – and thus has been part of the Carlotta supernatural scene since she was about seventeen. Moving to Carlotta for college, Katya had never been in a coven or anything akin before. Trixie had approached her about joining them – and Katya had been astonished at the different people around her. Trixie was an oracle, Jinkx was a witch. Alyssa and Courtney were werewolves; Farrah was a ghost and Manila a soothsayer – which she insisted was different from an oracle. No one was really sure what Sharon was but Ivy and Raven had fae-blood. Sometimes Trixie’s roommate Pearl was about but her Naiad blood was blood only and she held none of the characteristics or powers of the sea-nymphs. 

Trixie and Katya had first met in performance class, and it hadn’t taken the two of them long to become friends. And Trixie and Katya had been walking to the arts block one day when Trixie had stopped and told Katya that she’d dreamt of her.

Katya had laughed and teased and secretly maybe liked the fact that Trixie was dreaming about her, but Trixie had quickly re-explained what she meant. She was an oracle, and she dreamt the future. And she dreamt her clan, and Katya was a part of them. Katya had laughed, and told Trixie she was crazy but later that day Trixie has introduced her to Ivy and Sharon who lived on the floor below her. Ivy had made the grass outside the building shoot up as high as their window, and Sharon had stopped and taken her shirt off to display a pair of spiny, skeletal wings sprouting from her back.

It was safe to say Katya believed Trixie after that.

“I thought your family was karzelek as well?” Manila asks, carefully eyeing the teacup she’d balanced on her knee.

“Yeah but having a tiny bit of gnome blood is hardly all this prophecy and spells and seeing the future thing that all you guys have going on,”

Trixie looks carefully at Katya when she says this but Katya purposely looks away, toward the counter of the shop. Trixie was the only one who knew of the rest of Katya’s heritage, and that was the way Katya wanted it to stay.

Manila nods in acceptance of Katya’s point, and then jumps when her movement makes the teacup fall onto the floor.

Trixie and Katya both laugh and Manila sighs in mock frustration. “If I saw things like this – it would be a lot easier.” Stretching, she goes to the counter. The girl serving has a cloud of pastel purple hair and smiles at Manila as she comes closer.

Katya looks down at the shattered teacup underneath her feet. The tea has pooled around the floorboards, dripping down to whatever was underneath. The fragments of the cup were patterned with tiny, now-broken stars, and still laughing Katya looks up at Trixie. Trixie’s frozen however, staring at the remains of Manila’s lunchbreak with wide, scared eyes.

“Trix?” Katya asks, and the blonde girl snaps her vision back to Katya, an automatic smile spreading over her face.

“I’m sorry,” she gestures, clicking her fingers together. “The star pattern – I’ve seen it before. It threw me, that’s all.”

“You’ve actually seen it, or you’ve dreamt it?” Katya asks carefully

“Both,” Trixie twists her hands. “I dreamt it – but I’d seen it before. I’m not sure where – but now this is the third time.”

“You didn’t recognise it earlier?”

Trixie snorts slightly, “I wasn’t that interested in Manila’s tea. And it’s the cracks through the stars – that’s what I saw.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for it,” Katya promises, nudging Trixie’s shoulder with her own.

Trixie smiles gratefully, “I’m sure it’s nothing – maybe I just kept seeing it because Manila was going to drop her teacup.”

“I’ll keep an eye out anyways,” Katya reassures, looking back at the broken star pattern on the floor. Trixie’s smile brightens as Manila comes back, holding a dust pan and brush in her hands. Behind her is the girl with the purple hair, clutching a roll of kitchen paper.

“I told Kim I could clean it just on my own but she insisted which is just as well as I would have probably made more of a mess or something,” Manila explains, laughing. Her eyes narrow as she looks from Katya to Trixie and back to Katya again before her smile reforms. “We might have to reschedule this lunch date girls,”

“I’ve got music in a bit,” Trixie shrugs, laughing slightly at Manila crouched down in her white feathered skirt. “I was going to head off anyways, it’s okay.” Katya slips her phone out her pocket, snapchatting Manila’s latest endeavour to their coven’s group chat. Almost automatically she gets a selfie back of Sharon, the words ‘what a looser’ written over her mouth.

“Sharon called you a looser,” Katya grins at the older girl. “And I’ve got revision or something I should probably get around to doing.”

“Till later then,” Manila agrees, kneeling back down on the floor. Trixie and Katya leave the building, the bell on the door swinging behind them.

“I’ll see you later?” Trixie offers, once outside and the two hug before going their separate ways – Trixie to her lecture and Katya to go sit in her dorm and be bored. She could go to the library or something but there was never that much space in the building and she worked better with music playing – her lost headphones making it an impossible occurrence in the library.

It’s started drizzling very lightly and Katya morns the coat she left in her dorm that morning. Across Carlotta echoes the chimes of St. Bartholomew’s bell tower. Three o’clock.

Katya could head back to her dorm, doubtless cold and empty, or she could go and visit Fame. It’s been a while since she’s caught up with the American girl and the South Block is a short minute away from the café.  
Fame’s leaving South Block, a purple and blue umbrella clutched in her hand when Katya bumps into her. She hugs Katya briefly, telling the girl she’s going out to town for a bit but that Max is in her dorm and if Katya wants to sit in there till the rain stops she’s more than welcome. It’s only ten minutes to Katya’s own dorm and the rain has pretty much stopped but Katya agrees, thanking Fame and hugging her once more before she scurries off.

The room Fame shares with Jinkx isn’t especially big; however it has a balcony which makes it luxury nonetheless. The door is propped open with a dictionary and Katya slips inside to see the large windows to the balcony open, Max Malanaphy sat with her feet hanging through the metal gilded fence.  

“Maxie,” Katya greets, smiling and sitting down next to the grey-haired girl. Max smiles in response, chuckling slightly as Katya pulls her shoes off and drops them to the ground. Katya watches Max watch them; they fall and bump against the tarmac and Max gave another small smile. “So. Why are we sat here?”

Max arches an eyebrow – a talent Katya had always envied. “You came and sat next to me. Shouldn’t you know?”

“Probably,” Katya shrugs, nonchalance filling her movements. Max’s mouth quirked slightly as she looked back over Carlotta, Fame’s dorm faces south and you can see where the gates of the college stop and where the town continues. Thick forest meet the small huddle of houses quickly, thousands of trees filling in the space all the way to the horizon, almost in a complete circle around Carlotta.

Max, with her discomfort for the outside and her disapproval of insects and hate for dirt or soil, was enamoured with the forest. It was odd. Katya wasn’t one to judge – she had plenty of quirks herself, she supposed but it was rather amusing that the one who was practically agoraphobic was so obsessive with the forest.

When Katya had first met Max she’d been so confused about the impeccably mannered girl never seemed to need to re-dye her grey hair and who was almost bursting with personality, and yet never spoke unless she was asked to or offered any conversational starters of her own. Months had passed and gradually Max had grown more comfortable around her – she wasn’t afraid to make a joke or start a conversation or give an opinion – but it still felt muted. Everything about the girl did.

She’d never been very big on philosophy. If someone wanted to act some way or pretend to be something, Katya didn’t really care. But Max was different.

Max, Katya was worried about.

And they’d never exchanged words about it but she knew that Trixie and Fame were too. There was something off with the girl, something jilted and it was scary.

But looking at the girl who was smiling slightly as she turned back to look at Katya, Katya only felt soothed. At home.

“How are you going to get your shoes back?”

“I’ll walk down?”

“It’s was raining earlier; your feet will get awfully wet.”  
“Shit,” Katya curses and Max laughs a little. “Maxie. When I want to go and get my shoes, will you please carry me?”

Max looks doubtfully at Katya, and then down at herself. “I’m sorry darling but I don’t think so.”

Katya mock-groans but she didn’t except any other reply. Max is ridiculously tall, but she’s like a baby giraffe, clumsy and delicate with a penance for stumbling. Max smiles once again at Katya’s theatrics and Katya’s suddenly stuck with the fact that she’d exaggerate her personality and reactions all the time for it to make Max happy – that she already does, more than she does for anyone else.

It’s an odd realisation, Katya almost feels proud of herself which is stupid because she shouldn’t be proud for just being a friend. But watching Max laugh and smile does make Katya proud, and it makes her feel so warm and so much closer to the girl.

“I think it’s going to start raining again soon,” Max continues, looking back over the forest. The clouds above are dark and she’s probably right. Katya should go and get her shoes. It would be easier if Max wasn’t there but Katya doesn’t want her to leave.

But it’s like Max has read her mind as she stands up, stretching. Her head hits the dreamcatchers that either Fame or Jinkx has hung above the window; feather’s tangling in her hair. “I’ve got an essay to finish; I should really get back to work.”

Katya stands too, tiptoeing to help Max pull the feathers out from her hair. The grey waves were soft and silky, almost feeling like feathers themselves.

“Do you want me to walk you?” Katya offers.

“No thank you darling,” Max gestures out the window, “it’s pretty much raining. I can go and get your shoes though if you like?”

“Oh no leave them there,” Katya grins, “It’ll make me laugh seeing Fame’s reaction – she likes them ten times more than me. And there’s no point you walking out the front door to get my shoes when you’re headed in the other direction.”

“Well,” Max hesitates, “if you’re sure.”

“Of course I’m sure!” Katya waves her hands, “go back to your block before it starts raining again. And have fun on your essay and I’ll snapchat you Fame’s reaction.”

Max laughs, “I’d like that,” and then they’re hugging and Katya goes to pet Max’s hair – it really is so soft, and then the tall girl is scurrying out the door. Katya watches her go for a second before she cracks her fingers out and goes to lie on Fame’s bed.

She’s amusing herself on snapchat – she and Ginger have a 376 day streak that consists of the two of them only sending each other pictures of their nostrils – when the door opens. Katya’s expecting Fame and freezes a little when she sees Jinkx.

Jinkx looks over at her, frowning slightly. “Is Fame here?”

“No.” Katya replies, looking the redhead up and down. She’s wearing a red shirt that clashes with her hair beautifully and Katya wishes she could pull something like that off. “I can go if you want?”

“No, no you don’t need to,” Jinkx shuts the door behind her, placing her bag on her bed. “I wanted to talk to you actually.”

“You wanted to talk to me?” Katya replies, slightly bemused. She’s friendly with the witch but she’s not sure if Jinkx would label them friends. She’s not sure if they have much in common that Jinkx would want to talk about.

“I was with Adore earlier,” Jinkx explains, sitting herself down on the bed and straightening out her skirt. “We were talking – she’s a bit daunted but no, she’s okay. She said none of you know what she is?”

“I certainly don’t,” Katya agrees, “and neither does Trixie. Why? Do you?”

“No I don’t,” Jinkx sighs, lying flat down on her back, pulling her arms straight over her head. “But we were in the forest – and the trees seem to dance or something when she’s around. I can’t explain it – but it’s like they know she’s there. They respond to her.”

“The woods over there?” Katya asks, gesturing out the window. Jinkx cranes her head up to see, before nodding.

“Ivy’s coming around in a bit – she had some ideas she wanted to discuss,” Jinkx pulls her phone out her pocket and throws it at Katya. “But Adore and I were messaging – what do you know about vomiting flowers?”

“Vomiting flowers?” Katya repeats incredulously, picking up Jinkx’s phone. It has no passcode and Katya opens the lock screen to display a conversation between Jinkx and Adore.

**Um. Do you know anything about people vomiting up flowers?** Is the last message Jinkx had received from Adore, to which she’d replied **Whyy? And no, I don’t think so.** Adore hadn’t said anything more and Katya looks up from the phone to Jinkx. She’d sat herself up, fingers twisting around the hem of her skirt.

“So – Adore’s vomiting flowers? And does it sound stupid if I ask if she mistakenly ate them or something?”

Jinkx gives a helpless shrug. “I don’t know. She’s got ties to nature – that much is obvious. I was just wondering if you had any light to shed on the matter?”

“I don’t sorry,” Katya shakes her head.

“Let’s hope Ivy’s come to some conclusion then,” Jinkx sighs, smoothing out her skirts hem over her knee.

“What’s happening with you and Ivy though?” Katya asks, purposefully heightening her voice. “You could cut the tension with a finger nail. Maybe not one of mine, I chew them.”

Jinkx smiles softly at Katya’s comment and raise her own so Katya can see. “There’s nothing between Ivy and I.”

Jinkx’s nails are bitten to the quick and she’s definitely lying about her and Ivy. But Katya knows when to drop things – mostly – so she just smiles and makes a mental note to ask Ivy later.

Think of the girl and she will arrive, for it’s only a few minutes of the two girls sitting in silence before a knock comes at the door and Jinkx springs up from the bed, opening it to reveal one Ivy Winters. She’s wearing a gold dress with matching earrings and black tights and has an uncanny talent to wear whatever she likes and make it fit perfectly into the setting. Her hairs in a messy Mohawk styled ponytail and her eye makeup is gold and she greets Jinkx with fervour and then smiles at Katya, which makes butterflies flood Katya’s stomach.

“Ivy,” Jinkx says, prodding the girl with her toe and Ivy colours immediately.

“Fuck. Oh my gosh I am so sorry,” she laughs a little, self-consciously, and the butterflies in Katya’s stomach disappear instantly.

Katya smiles, slightly unsure what exactly Ivy was apologising for but she doesn’t comment. “Jinkxy have you filled Ivy in?” Ivy’s face sharpens a little when Katya uses the nickname and nothing between Jinkx and Ivy, pah is what Katya says to that.

“I haven’t,” Jinkx smiles at Ivy. “Adore asked me if I knew anything about throwing up flowers? She didn’t say it was her throwing them up but it’s pretty obvious it is.”  
Ivy hums a little, sitting on Fame’s bed next to Katya and frowning at Jinkx. “Throwing up flowers? This changes things,”

“Changes what?” Jinkx asks, raising an eyebrow and goddammit she can do it too.

“I spoke to my mum last night,” Ivy twists her hands. Jinkx’s eyebrows rise even higher at this and Katya turns to study Ivy. She’s biting her lip, eyes somewhat glazed. “She said that there’s been an odd amount of energy coming from Carlotta – for a while now. Six months to be precise.”

“Adore’s been here longer than six months,” Katya replies

Ivy nods in agreement. “Yes. But the biggest energy spike was two nights ago – when Adore’s painting was received on the wall. The whole flower thing – her relationship with nature – it was all pointing towards some sort of nymph or dryad but these energy spikes do not fit the pattern.”

“And you’re certain it was caused by Adore?” Jinkx scratches her hair, titling her head.

“Well, no,” Ivy admits, “I’m not. But I have a feeling – and you can just tell she’s powerful by looking at her.”

“Are there no powerful nymphs then?” Katya asks, looking from Jinkx to Ivy.

“Well, yes there are,” Ivy rushes, “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. But Adore is more than a nymph – or that’s what it feels. I don’t know how to explain it. I can see things – like auras and such on certain people. Adore’s aura is brighter than any nymph or dryad or any such creature I’ve ever known.”

“Do I have an aura?” Katya asks, regretting it once she’s said it because maybe that was going off topic. But Katya’s never meet another fae before, she doesn’t know any one like Ivy and the idea of an aura is intriguing to say the least.

“Yours is kind of green,” Ivy considers Katya. “Inky, olive green. And Jinkx’s is purple, kind of reddish.”

Inky, olive green didn’t sound the most attractive but there were a lot worse colours. “Can you see your own?”

“Yeah,” Ivy grins sheepishly, “it’s like whitey-yellow. Mostly white. Adore’s – Adore’s is this blue colour and I wish I could show you, it’s so vivid. Even when we were walking to the bridge yesterday, in the dark, it still seemed to sparkle.”

“Are the aura’s reflective of a person’s heritage?” Jinkx asks, picking up the hem of her skirt.

“Kind of?” Ivy frowns, tightening her ponytail. “They’re mostly reflective of the person as a whole – I think it depends how much somebody’s powers come into that person. Like, mortals have auras too.”

“So is it any clue in tracing Adore’s heritage?” Jinkx questions, shifting closer to the edge of the bed

“Um,” Ivy shakes her head. “No.”

“So are clues are that she’s powerful, has ties with nature and potentially vomits flowers?” Katya strokes an imaginary beard. “Hmm,”

“Someone should ask her maybe, about the flowers?” Ivy suggests,

“It would help if she’s read any of my messages,” Jinkx flops backwards on her bed, eyes roaming the ceiling. “I could do any identity spell maybe but they take weeks, and I’d need like a bit of her hair and an eyelash and preferably soil from when she was born so…also those energy spikes? Are they dangerous do you know Ives?”

Ivy shakes her head, ponytail flying around her face. “I don’t know, I don’t think so – my mum surely would have said something if so. They’re just sudden. But that’s the part you have to keep an eye on – whatever is causing these spikes could suddenly become volatile or dangerous, and so they could too. It’s all a bit up in the air.”

“We can talk to Manila I guess,” Jinkx suggests, “if we all meet again – maybe Alyssa’s pack and the shroud. You know, get everyone. Pull resources? Someone’s got to know something about the energy spikes.”

“What if it is Adore causing them?” Katya pushes her sleeves back up her arms. “How would we approach that?”

“I don’t think we would,” Ivy bites her lip. “It’s possible her act is all a ruse. Or perhaps even more dangerously, she’s completely unaware that she’s letting this power off.”

“And it’s not just your mum who can sense energy spikes,” Jinkx looked up, her eyes darker than Katya had ever seen them. “There’s a huge possibility that more people will come to Carlotta – people who want the energy for themselves.”

The words are stones falling against Katya’s ears. She knows what Jinkx means – they all do. There’s a reason that in mortal fairy tales witches and vampires and goblins and fairies are portrayed as evil more often than not. And then there are those who are so firmly against the supernatural folk, those who wouldn’t stop at anything to purge them. Katya wasn’t sure which she was more scared of.

Their conversation is cut short when the door opens. Fame looks puzzled at Ivy’s appearance but she smiles at all three of them and then, eyes sharpening at Katya, they grow into a glare.

One arm in the air, she holds a pair of sodden, dripping daps.

 

               

It’s hours later when Katya wakes up screaming. She can hear Ginger in the bed next to hers, but she can’t focus on what her roommate’s saying. She can’t focus. As a rule, Katya doesn’t scream. She physically cannot scream, if somebody were to ask her too – well. She would open her mouth and nothing would come out. Katya couldn’t scream.

There was one exception to that rule. She didn’t really want to think about it.

“Are you okay?” Ginger’s moved closer, she’s stood next to Katya’s bed now. Her face looks worried and it takes rather a lot to make Ginger look worried. It takes something like Katya screaming in her sleep and waking the both of them up.

“I’m fine,” she grins, aiming for brightness and she doesn’t need to look at Ginger’s face to know that it probably failed. “Just a dream. It’s okay.”

Ginger looks doubtful but she steps backwards, “if you need to talk or anything…”

Katya shakes her head, hair flying across her face. “It’s okay. Thank you though.”  
Ginger smiles briefly, sitting back down on her bed. Silence fills the room. It’s not dark – there’s light pouring through the curtains, illuminating the clock that hangs above their door. Five am. If Katya had her way she wouldn’t ever wake up before twelve. However, she doesn’t really have her way that often – either due to lectures, plans with Trixie or the inability to sleep. Or the screaming.

It hadn’t happened since she’s been in Carlotta, it hadn’t happened since she was fifteen. And before that, it had happened once when she was nine, and once when she was five. Screaming wasn’t a regular occurrence and Katya knew of that fact well enough to know what screaming now meant.

Katya’s karzelek blood is known to their coven. Trixie’s the only one who knows about the rest of Katya’s heritage and that’s the way she wanted it to stay. Only now she might need to tell the rest of her friends.

Sitting up, she pushes her hair behind her ears. “I’m going to take a shower,” she tells Ginger and doesn’t look of her. Instead, she shrugs on a red sports jacket and pocket’s her mobile. Katya and Ginger dorm in the North block and it’s a few metres away from the West block where Trixie and Pearl reside. Trixie is who Katya needs to see.

She’s out the door, locking it with her card behind her when she realises she doesn’t have any shoes. She doesn’t care really but the lino floors the line the corridors are kind of tacky and gross and her feet make padding noises as she walks. There are lifts in the dorms but they take years to work and all students who actually need them dorm on the ground floor so mostly, the elevators are out of use.

Katya always used to be insistent that they should get escalator stairs, and walking down four flights of stairs, she stands by her idea. The ground floor was the dirtiest, all kinds of muck being brought in on the bottom of people’s shoes and Katya tiptoes through it. The front doors of the dorm blocks are  locked at night and can only be opened with key cards – each dorm has its own card, so as well as not allowing people you didn’t know in, it also made it notoriously hard for hook up’s to leave.

On the second floor in the East block there was a window in the stairwell that you could open and then climb onto the music block roof and go down the emergency exist ladder but the campus security had grown wise to the trick, and besides, Katya wasn’t even in East block.

And she wasn’t in West anymore either.

Despite the sun being in mid-rise, it was still fucking cold. Katya, although she’d grabbed a jacket had nothing to put on her legs and so she was just in hot shorts with bare feet and gooseflesh. The paths between the campus buildings were paved and the stone was so very cold and Katya practically ran the few feet to the West block. 

Sat outside the West block, she rings Trixie.

Trixie will sleep through anything, except one particular alarm that consistently whistles, growing louder and higher in pitch. And so, that alarm is Trixie’s ringtone for Katya.

“Katya?” Her voice was heavy with sleep and Katya could visualise her, thick eyelashes blinking as she pushed her hair away from her faces, rubbing the sleep out of her face with the heels of her palms.

“Can I come in?”

“Are you okay?” Trixie’s reply is automatic, less heavy.

“I – I screamed in my sleep.”

To anyone else the sentence would have made no sense, but Trixie knew everything – and not just because she was an oracle. “I’m coming down right now. Are you outside?”

“Yup,” Katya can only laugh a little because the situation is just dawning and she doesn’t know what to do, she doesn’t know what to do.

“Okay I’m coming. I’ll kick Pearl out too.”

Trixie hangs up before Katya can respond and Katya pulls her legs up to her chest, hugging them closer. She’s tired and she’s cold and she’s scared but Trixie has an incredible ability to always make her feel better.

The blonde girl appears in record time, opening the front door and rushing outside to greet Katya. They hug, and Trixie’s wearing slippers with pink checked pyjama bottoms and her hair in a messy bun on the top of her hair. She’s wearing no makeup and there’s a toothpaste stain on her cheek and even this messy, half-asleep version of Trixie is still so fucking beautiful.

“Here,” Trixie thrusts a blanket at her. It’s pink and white with little cats printed on it. “I don’t know how you’re not freezing,”

“I am,” Katya laughs slightly. “My nipples have turned to stone. Oh fuck.”  
“C’mon,” Trixie gestures, grabbing Katya’s hand. “Inside.”

North Block has the same lino floors as West but the ground floor in North was where the food court was situated and thus the cleaners actually clean the floor on a regular schedule. Trixie lives on the first floor so it takes barely any time for the two of them to get there and Trixie let’s go of Katya’s hand to fish her key card out from her bra and Katya misses the lack of contact more than she thought she would.

“Pearl’s at Violets – she didn’t even complain,” Trixie shakes her head slightly. “She’s head over heels for that girl,”

Katya finds herself smiling too because the relationship between Violet and Pearl is fucking obvious, or obvious for everyone who wasn’t Violet or Pearl.

“So,” Trixie sits down on her bed and Katya sits next to her. “What happened?”

Katya bites her lip, looking away from Trixie. The dorm Trixie and Pearl share is perfectly matched, the two holding similar tastes with the main colour scheme white and baby pink. Pearl has a huge heap of coats and scarfs over her desk and the back of her chair and Katya looks at them, picking out the colours as she considers her answer. “I don’t fucking know. I didn’t dream anything – but I don’t think I ever had before. I just screamed. Woke both Ginger and I up.”

“And it’s that type of scream?” Trixie’s voice is careful, and she already knows the answer.

Most of Pearl’s coats were in shades of white or cream. There were a fair few black ones, one in a vivid shade of yellow. Her scarfs were made from every colour imaginable, but Katya had only seen her in white. The fabrics though – lace, wool, feather, linen, satin, cotton, sequined – changed constantly.

“Katya?” Trixie prompts and Katya looks up at her best friend. She feels like she’s about to cry.

“Somebody’s going to die,” and oh wow her voice was all thick and then she was crying, huge ugly sobs that shook her whole body. Trixie was there in an instant, stroking her hands through Katya’s hair and pulling her into her arms. Katya revelled in the contact, holding back no attempt to not cry and instead pushing her face into Trixie’s T-shirt.

As a baby, Katya had been very quiet. Her family had been worried till she grew older and it was obvious that she could hear and talk just fine and then it became an odd quirk about her – a baby who never wailed, a toddler who never screamed, a child who only had silent tantrums.

When Katya had been five, she’d screamed for the first time. She couldn’t remember it, not really, but she did hold vague memories of black horses and holding tightly to her mother’s hand and the sudden lack of her Grandmother in her life.

At nine years old, Katya had screamed again. Screaming wasn’t perhaps the right term for it – shrieking. A Wailing, screeching, make-your-eardrums-burst kind of shriek. Her mother had been astonished, and then she’d grown angry when Katya didn’t stop. But Katya couldn’t stop. She’d screamed, and screamed, and the noises kept coming over the course of a week and Katya’s family had grown fearful and her classmates had grown cruel and there were discussions of taking her to see somebody when her eldest brother was in a car crash. He was lucky to survive but the four people he’d been with, two of which had babysat Katya multiple times in the past didn’t.

After that Katya had lost all ability to scream and her mother’s face grew steadily more and more ashen.

She was told of her Karzelek heritage when she was eleven and things made more sense. There was a reason she could see perfectly in the dark, how she could navigate herself around where she’d never been before, how her body could contort in ways that took years for professionals to master. But it hadn’t explained the screaming.

The answer came, at age fifteen. Katya had woken screaming. Steadily, the days passed and like clock-work, Katya woke up screaming every night. The screams grew more constant until one day she’d fallen to the floor, her voice louder than it had ever been before and her howling, she’d been unable to stop.

She’d been alone in the house that day, and thankfully, for her wails would have terrified her family. But not as much as they terrified Katya.

Over the years, a pattern had been emerging. And at age fifteen, Katya had screamed for an hour non-stop and whilst that had been happening, a vacuum cleaner factory only few miles away from their house had exploded. Nineteen people had been killed, five of those people Katya had known and the theory behind her screams grew as provided with more evidence.  

Katya had attended the memorial with her tears stinging her lips and a word echoing around her head. Banshee.

And now, at age twenty and wrapped in Trixie’s arms, it seemed like it was happening all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please please review and kudos and bookmark and all those good things that keep my ego fuelled!! This chapter's been written for a while sorry it took so long to upload. You can also read this fic on artificialqueens @ tumblr, under the name merrow, or on my own tumblr @artificialmerrow.

**Author's Note:**

> yay thanks for reading!! Come find me on tumblr @artificialmerrow and also. You can read all my fics on artificialqueens.tumblr.com/tagged/merrow YAY


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